


The hell inside

by TK7RO



Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: Depression, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:40:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24980083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TK7RO/pseuds/TK7RO
Kudos: 4





	The hell inside

“ _I can’t handle it anymore. It’s too much._ ”

Hannah Baker had been feeling like this for months now, but lately, it was getting worse. As she felt the wounds growing inside her and the pain getting deeper and deeper, there was some point where she just stopped feeling anything else besides the pain. Not joy, not excitement not even hope, just pain, loneliness and despair.

She could feel the darkness growing inside her and the thoughts how she was worthless, weak and a shame, taking over her.

As she walked down the street, she felt the tears rolling down her face. She tried. She tried so fucking hard to get her shit together, to forget everything and just move on. But there are some things you can’t just forget or pretend they never existed. There are moments that can scar you for life and open wounds that can make you feel like you will never heal. And when they just start to pile up and rip your soul apart until you can’t even remember who you are anymore without them… Well, that’s when things start to get to a point of no return.

That’s how she felt. Each and every scene passing through her head... how she’d been hurt again and again. How she felt her heart and herself breaking apart piece by piece. How she’d try to collect the pieces and handle it, hoping for better days. But how many times can you afford being broken, scattered and hurt before you start feeling you’re just broken beyond repair? Before you start feeling there’s no hope and you should just quit?

She tried asking for help. Actually, she had just done it. For the last time. Her chest was too heavy… maybe if she could talk to someone? If she trusted someone with what she was feeling and all the terrible thoughts that were going trough her head, maybe it would feel a bit easier? Or at least less lonely? So, she tried... but as in all her previous attempts, this was just another fail. People seemed to be too busy with their work, with their lives and all other people they actually cared about to even notice she existed… how could she expect any of them to take the time to understand what she was really going through and care enough to try to help her?

Maybe people didn’t know, but that was the worst part and one of the most hurtful. When you try to ask for help, to talk about it, when you put your heart and soul out there, but nobody seems to listen or to really understand the deepness of your pain, it hurts so SO much, that at some point you just stop talking about it or even try to ask for help. You just feel alone and helpless.

And that’s a problem… because when you are fighting the darkness and using all your remaining strengths to call for help and trying to reach out to someone to help you but you don’t succeed, that’s when you feel the most vulnerable and lonely. Then it starts. That loop of horrible thoughts about yourself that you can’t stop and you can’t contradict as everything around you seems to reinforce them until you’re not able to fight them anymore: “ _You mean nothing_ ”, “ _You are weak and worthless_ ”, “ _Nobody really cares about you_ ”, “ _Nobody needs you in their lives_ ”, “ _You deserve to suffer_ ”, “ _Everything you feel is your fault and you deserve it_ ”, “ _You’re a waste of time and space_ ”, “ _You’re a weight for other people_ ”, “ _Have you ever actually looked at yourself? Why would someone like you, care about you or even want you in their lives?_ ”, “ _Why would someone waste their time trying to help you? You’re just an attention seeker_ ”, “ _The world would be better off without you_ ”, “ _If you died, people would be happier_ ”. And at some point, you just start believing it until you can’t believe in anything else.

She was tired. No. She was exhausted of felling like this every single day. Her pain seemed invisible to everyone else (especially the ones that were supposed to care about her), so she was all alone fighting it all. But it was too much. It was just too much.

She lost the count of the times and hours she laid down her bed crying. Feeling that terrible lump in her throat preventing her from speak. Asking for the gods to kill her in her sleep or somehow to free her from the pain. But nothing ever happened. She would just stay there, sometimes looking at her phone waiting for a miracle. Waiting for someone to remember she existed, to show they cared and to help saving her from herself. But that never happened. She would just cry until falling asleep from the exhaustion, hoping she wouldn’t wake up in the next day. But no, that never happened. Every morning she would just wake up and drag herself trying to get through yet another day, feeling lost, in pain and bleeding inside.

She was hurting deeply, but nobody seemed to care. She was looking around for someone to help her, but she seemed helpless. Her soul was leaving her body, but nobody seemed to notice.

She couldn’t handle it anymore. She couldn’t keep feeling this pain and fighting the voices in her head any longer. It was just too much. She needed it to stop. She desperately needed it to stop.


End file.
